


An Overdeveloped Sense of Duty

by merry_amelie



Series: Stand-alones [17]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-01
Updated: 2005-04-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon is trying too hard...</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Overdeveloped Sense of Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> To Alex, my friend and beta  
> Many thanks to Ula for her beta work.

When Qui-Gon had agreed to deepen his and Obi-Wan's relationship upon the latter's Knighthood, he'd never expected to be so miserable. Obi-Wan had been the perfect embodiment of a Jedi, and waited until after his Trials to reveal his love for his former Master. Qui-Gon had been stunned speechless.

Obi-Wan had not let a hint of his feelings into their training bond over its twelve year duration. Since Qui-Gon's own emotions had evolved from the paternal to a sense of fellowship with the new Knight, he had a problem on his hands.

Qui-Gon had chosen the way of chastity as a boy under Yoda's tutelage, and had never regretted it. Some of his much-vaunted serenity had come from the peace this had granted him. He was reluctant to give it up.

Looking at Obi-Wan's eager face, lit from within by his adoration, Qui-Gon could not bear to deny him. He took Obi-Wan in his arms, and declared his love for him. It helped that Qui-Gon actually did love him as a friend, and that the training bond was a mere whisper of memory.

Obi-Wan, of course, was delighted and spent the night making up for years of abstinence. Qui-Gon called on the Force to augment his tepid reaction. The first taste of Obi-Wan's lips was pleasant but unarousing. Cupping his cheeks, Qui-Gon remembered the times he'd patted them as an indulgence. He focused his complete attention on the young man, as he would in the salle, and noted each reaction. Hard muscle encased in downy skin, the same sensations he'd felt in their hand-to-hand combat drills. Qui-Gon could see that Obi-Wan was a handsome young man, and feel his goodness, but desire just wasn't there.

He heard Obi-Wan's breath quicken as he skimmed his hands over the hair on the young man's thighs. Obi-Wan was starting to respond in earnest to Qui-Gon's caresses, yet his recalcitrant body refused to take an interest without another Force boost.

The beauty of the sweet skin under his fingertips, the flush he'd only previously seen with exertion, the adoring expression finally freed in its full intensity -- all moved Qui-Gon to the bone, and should have translated into passion, but did not.

At least the deep love within him was seeping into Obi-Wan's pores, and Qui-Gon could feel it returned, pure and true, even without the training bond. His intuition, sharper with Obi-Wan here in his arms, drove him to prolong the young man's pleasure until both of them were glazed with sweat and exhausted.

Obi-Wan's brilliant smile as he fell asleep assuaged Qui-Gon's guilt, and convinced him he'd done the right thing.

Thus began a pattern: the Master became Obi-Wan's Force-assisted lover, the younger man believing Qui-Gon's ardor to be genuine. Obi-Wan was happy, Qui-Gon relieved that he hadn't hurt his dearest friend.

Obi-Wan, though deeply in love, could not disregard his Jedi training, and he knew when Force augmentation occurred. Unfortunately, it happened every time he made love with Qui-Gon. At first, Obi-Wan thought it might be the insecurity of an older man with a younger lover, that Qui-Gon was using the Force to equalize their drives. However, it had become a necessary part of their foreplay, which seemed excessive even with the decades between them.

One day, Obi-Wan couldn't deny it any more.

"What are you doing, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan tensed, feeling the by now customary Force surge before their lovemaking. 

"I like to feel the Force flow through me when we make love, Obi-Wan."

"I've heard of Force-enhanced speed, but..."

An embarrassed Qui-Gon interrupted him, hand hot on his ribs. "You're right. It isn't needed." The currents of the Force around them returned to their normal patterns. Qui-Gon kissed him in reassurance, trying his best to seem passionate.

However, now that Obi-Wan was on to his tricks, he saw through Qui-Gon's apparent ardor. A misdirection, just as Obi-Wan had ascribed his lover's use of the Force to the vanity of age.

Obi-Wan sat up, his open tunics flaring. "Let's talk for a moment, Qui-Gon." He could see it now in his former Master's eyes: guilt. Obi-Wan closed his own, in rejection of what he feared to be true. "You never wanted this." Each word sounded truer as he said it. 

Utter silence. Truth spoke within the stillness. 

Grateful that they hadn't undressed yet, Obi-Wan got up slowly, defeated. "I'm sorry." He walked to his old room, with its dusty linens and untouched pillow. Amazing how the bed, his own for twelve years, felt so strange, the sheets rougher than sackcloth against his skin. 

Jedi to the core, he remained dry-eyed, though his hopes for a lifetime with Qui-Gon had just evaporated.

Qui-Gon now knew that it would have been better to reject Obi-Wan's advances immediately. He'd have been upset, yes, but Qui-Gon would have kept his trust, and not hurt him so intimately.

The Jedi Master sank to his knees beside the bed, emptier than it had been in months, and began to meditate. Unbidden, his mind flashed images of Obi-Wan as a Junior Padawan before him. The boy that he'd sworn to protect and cherish as his own.

At last Qui-Gon fully understood his current problem: that child and his mature Knight were one and the same to him, at least on an emotional level. No wonder he hadn't felt desire for a man he had nurtured for over a decade. He had not permitted himself to be attracted to someone in his care.

What was Obi-Wan to him now, though? He called up pictures of his brother Knight meditating with him knee to knee, their blended signature Lighting the Force; at the negotiation table, a smile and an encyclopaedic memory for the intricacies of treaty law his best allies; in the salle, a feral grin on a face ruddy and sweating as he casually disarmed the fiercest challenger; debating polemics with gusto in a midnight rush of confidence; charming the children of Premier Couditi during the Rijoh Spring Festival; dancing in his arms, breath teasing over his bare neck, at the gala celebrating the Maberan Accord on Jalacia; in Cloud Garden, faraway gaze and lazy sensuality poured over his cloak; overcome with passion, calm veneer shredded by Qui-Gon's own hand.

All of those incarnations of Obi-Wan bespoke maturity. He finally saw the man as he truly was, unencumbered by the overlay of past protectiveness.

When Qui-Gon surfaced from meditation, he realized that his body had reacted to these flashes of the adult Obi-Wan in just the way he'd been unable to until this point. An ironic grin lit his face.

Calming himself, he strode to Obi-Wan's old room in the early morning sunlight. He had some damage to undo.

"May I come in?" Qui-Gon asked in the hallway.

Obi-Wan wordlessly undid the lock with a Force flick. He was composed and remote to the Master's eye as he stood by the door.

"Obi-Wan, I owe you an apology." At the Knight's nod, Qui-Gon continued. "When you first asked me to be your lover, I did not want that change in our relationship. But I didn't want to hurt you even more. I started using the Force in our lovemaking so I wouldn't disappoint you." Qui-Gon bowed his head. "I'm very sorry for my deception."

Obi-Wan's silence continued. His eyes closed, this time involuntarily; he was unprepared for Qui-Gon's raw honesty.

Obi-Wan felt callused fingers lift his chin, and leaned into them instinctively. His former Master had always been a source of warmth and comfort, his body drawn to Qui-Gon's flame.

"Obi-Wan, something changed last night. I meditated on our relationship through the years, and discovered that I still thought of you as my charge, despite the fact that a young man stood before me." A self-deprecating chuckle, barely there. "Now I can honestly say that those illusions are gone. You are my partner and, if you will still have me, my lover." He took Obi-Wan's hands in his own, glad to feel them relax into his palms. "I love you, my Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon brought Obi-Wan's lips, with barely one breath between them, to his own, and infused all his newly discovered passion into the kiss. The velvet mouth beneath him had been his to plunder for weeks, and Qui-Gon finally did justice to that gift.

The difference was astonishing. Obi-Wan now felt what he'd subconsciously hoped to experience the very first time Qui-Gon had kissed him. His instinctive response was to meet that passion with his own in perfect complement.

Now that was a proper kiss.

When they could spare an inch to talk, Obi-Wan said, "I love you, Qui-Gon. Everything's all right." Obi-Wan reached for another kiss. "What you did was wrong, but it shows how much you love me. You tried to change your very nature to make me happy. That's some gift."

Qui-Gon nuzzled Obi-Wan's cheek. "Thank you for your forgiveness." He snorted. "What a mess, when all I needed was a change in perception." He was still standing in the doorframe of the Padawan room. "How about coming back where you belong, my love?"

Together the men walked to the bedroom they'd used for the past three weeks. At last they would truly share it.

Qui-Gon lingered over undressing Obi-Wan, nuzzling and kissing each bit of skin as it was uncovered. Both silent apology and newfound enthusiasm were evident in his actions. Obi-Wan had never responded to Qui-Gon's caresses so ardently before; this was really their first time, and both of them meant to savor it.

Obi-Wan was quick to return the favor, and unwrap the meters of coarsecloth hiding his present. He took his time, fingertips expressing a potent mixture of forgiveness and passion that left them breathless for more.

As they joined together, potential finally realized, the Force flowed through them both, without Qui-Gon's manipulation. And this time their communion was complete, the way it was always meant to be.


End file.
